Confessions of a Prince
by The Marauders3
Summary: The Prince's confession evokes conflicting emotions


**Title:** Confessions of a Prince  
**By:** dragoneye  
**Rating:** K  
**Written Because:** Though it may be typical, the idea would not leave my head.

**Summary: **The Prince's confession evokes conflicting emotions

**Thanks To:** felicity for pre-reading and helping with the title—I love you, dreamboat!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Princess Diaries.

O

"Charlotte, can I tell you a secret?"

The assistant to the Queen of Genovia looked up curiously from her desk to address the Prince of her country. "Certainly, Your Highness."

Pierre sighed and sat on the edge of her desk, crossing one leg over the other. "I think I'm in love."

Charlotte's eyes widened, both curious and frightened, but she kept her voice as steady as ever. "You think?"

The prince turned to face her. "I know."

Leaning back in her chair, Charlotte closed her eyes. "What's she like?"

His voice seemed to come from far away. "Gorgeous. Brilliant. Witty, lovely, wonderful, French."

"You're in love with some gorgeous French bimbo?" Charlotte said, eyes shooting open at his last adjective as she sat up again.

"She's not a 'bimbo', Charlotte. She's actually quite lovely, and smart too. Went to Cambridge, you know."

The name of her alma mater didn't faze Charlotte. "Take it from me—Frenchwomen are no good."

Pierre chuckled. "Oh shut up. You're French, and there's nothing wrong with you!"

"I'm a special case. Anyways, does she know you exist?"

He chuckled again. "Yes, of course."

The next burning question: "Have you ever talked to her?"

"Many times."

"Mmm. Have you told her you like her?"

"No," Pierre said, standing up to pace in front of Charlotte's desk. "No need to ask why, either; I'll tell you outright that I'm scared."

"Well," Charlotte said as she leaned back again, "What's the worst that could happen? She turns you down, flounces off, and you never see her again?"

Pierre stopped pacing long enough to put his hands in his pockets and inform Charlotte that "she doesn't flounce."

"Alright then. Best case scenario, she says, 'oui, Pierre, I have loved you for ages, kiss me!' and she snogs you senseless."

The prince stopped again. "I much prefer option number two."

Charlotte smiled. "Now all you have to do is talk to her. Have fun."

"Talk to who?" asked the Queen of Genovia as she came out of her office.

"His true love, Your Majesty," Charlotte told her Queen. "He'll finally be Prince Charming."

"A welcome change," said Queen Clarisse, taking her son's arm and pulling him into her office.

Charlotte waited until the door closed before slamming her fist down on her desk, the forced smile on her face being replaced by a grimace. She leaned back in her chair (again!), trying furiously to keep her eyes dry.

O

The security room on the ground floor of the palace was where the Genovian Head of Security was located at the moment. He looked up from his camera diagrams when the door opened.

"Hello, Charlotte," Joseph said before turning back to the intricate wires depicted in the drawing. When he received no answer, he raised his head again. "What's up?"

The assistant to the Queen of Genovia had closed the door and was leaning against it, palms pressed against the wood, while her eyes stared blankly ahead.

"Charlotte," Joseph said gently, standing up so he could wave his hand in front of her eyes, "Are you alright?"

She didn't speak, but her wide eyes slowly traveled up to meet his. Joseph was startled to see the hurt in them, so he repeated her name once more. Charlotte only shook her head. Then she blinked rapidly, sniffed, pressed her lips together, and threw herself into his arms, where she broke down into sobs.

Joseph was very confused. "What's wrong?"

Through her sobs, Charlotte tried to explain to him. "He said—he said he's in love—French—beautiful—oh, god!" and she pushed away from him, drying her eyes with her sleeve and sniffing up a storm.

'Who's in love?" Joseph asked, for that was the only piece of information he was able to gather from her broken words.

"Who do you think?" She laughed bitterly, turning to the security monitors lining the walls.

Suddenly reason came back to Joseph, and he uttered the name of Charlotte's heartbreaker. "Prince Pierre." No answer from Charlotte except a sniff of the nose and a slight jerk of the hand. "You're quite certain?"

"Positive," she muttered darkly, crossing her arms over her chest. "He told me himself."

"When?"

"About eight hours ago."

Words failed Joseph, so he reached out to awkwardly pat her shoulder.

The door opened a jar and Queen Clarisse's head appeared in the room. "Joseph? Could I have a word?" she asked, opening the door fully.

"I was just leaving, Your Majesty," Charlotte said, edging out around her Queen. Clarisse closed the door behind her aide, leaving herself alone with Joseph.

O

The soft sound of high heels clicking on the polished marble floor filled the foyer as Charlotte left the security room. Almost immediately, though, she was pulled to an abrupt stop. She felt a tug on the back of her shirt and twisted around to see whose hand was impeding her progress.

"Let go of me, Your Highness," she said coldly.

"No," said Pierre.

"Let me go."

"Not until you tell me what's wrong."

"Pierre!"

"Charlotte!" She struggled to get out of his strong grasp, but he grabbed her arm and spun her around. "You've been avoiding me all day, Charlotte, and I won't let you go until you tell me why."

She scoffed. "Don't be stupid, Pierre."

"I'm not being stupid, I'm just curious for your explanation!"

Tears sprang to Charlotte's eyes, but she batted them away with her free hand. As her hand fell from her eyes, she used it to shove the prince away, though his strong, almost painful, grip on her upper arm never faltered. "If you weren't so thickheaded, Your Highness," she emphasized his title with additional shoves, "you'd realize the answer is YOU."

"Oh, _I'm_ what's wrong?" he asked with a fake laugh, his voice becoming uncomfortably loud. "Me?"

"Yes, you!" Charlotte said, eyes growing wide as she hit him again. "And if you don't let go of me, you'll be even more of a problem!"

"Charlotte—"

"Shut up, you pig," she whimpered, giving him her biggest shove yet as her suppressed tears started falling.

"What did I do?" he asked incredulously, restraining her with both hands now.

"Do? What did you DO?!" Charlotte grabbed madly at the front of his shirt. "You had to be the pig-headed chauvinist that you are! You go around declaring your love for some gorgeous French whore and asking me for advice and absolutely breaking my heart, and then you act like nothing happened! If you weren't so damn thickheaded—" she hit him, hard, with both fists—"then you'd realize that!" She was nearly screaming at him now, with tears streaming down her face.

Pierre was frightened, confused, and angry. He said the first thought that came to mind. "She's not a whore."

"Well she might as well be, if YOU love her." Charlotte pounded his chest with her fists, which he caught in his hand to stop her. With his hands on her arm and her wrists, he held her so tightly that Charlotte couldn't move.

"Charlotte," he said, his voice cold, his eyes glinting with anger, his grip on her painful, "are you really this stupid?"

She gasped, and her voice was clouded by tears. "So now you're calling me stupid?" she choked, struggling in his grasp.

Pierre dropped her wrists and took her by the upper arms, giving her a little shake. "Yes, stupid, you don't realize that it's YOU I'm in love with, YOU, Charlotte!"

Charlotte froze, not moving except for her heaving chest. Pierre's eyes stared intensely into hers, brown meeting green, his grip on her still painful.

Standing in the doorway of the security room were Queen Clarisse and Joseph, drawn to the scene by the raised voices. They were speechless.

Suddenly, Pierre moved. He gave Charlotte a little shake and then crushed his lips to hers.

Clarisse gasped and her hand shot out to grab Joseph's, who squeezed hers tightly. They both stared at the couple, neither daring to speak a word for fear of discovery. Finally, Joseph pulled Clarisse into the security room and closed the door behind her, leaving Charlotte and the Prince kissing madly, arms now wrapped firmly around each other.

The Head of Security gave a little cough. Clarisse started, then turned to face him, mouth hanging open rather becomingly. "Pierre… and Charlotte?" she said after a moment.

Joseph chuckled, having regained his wits rather more quickly than the Queen. "You have often said that you think of Charlotte as the daughter you never had. Perhaps now she'll be your daughter-in-law."

Clarisse had to chuckle at that. "Oh, Joseph." She reached out to cup his cheek with her hand. "You always do know exactly what to say."

Her Head of Security smiled briefly but suddenly became serious. "Clarisse," he said, caressing her name with his voice while caressing her hand with his own, "If they can, why can't we?"

"Oh, Joseph," Clarisse said again, but her tone was entirely different this time. "You know we can't…"

"Clarisse." He stepped closer, daring to put his hands on her waist. "I have loved you longer than your son has loved Charlotte. Why can't we bring out relationship out of the shadows as well?"

Pain and longing filled Clarisse's eyes even as she laid her hands on Joseph's chest. "Oh, Joseph, I wish we could, but we just can't!" She shook her head, begging him to understand. "The circumstances are entirely different…"

"How so, Clarisse? A commoner being in love with royalty—if Charlotte can declare her love for a royal, then so can I!" His voice was fierce as he pulled her tightly to him. "I love you, Clarisse, and I want the world to know!"

The queen smiled ruefully at her love. "Yes, darling, but Pierre has abdicated, and I am still the reigning queen…"

"I don't care."

She chuckled. "Yes, well I—and Parliament, I suppose—do. We cannot bring our relationship out in public until I am off the throne and there can be no hint of scandal. I know it's painful, Joseph," she added as he rolled his eyes in annoyance, "but it's necessary. We must wait."

"I understand, my love," Joseph sighed, loosening his hold on her, "I understand completely."

"Oh, Joseph." Clarisse smiled fondly at him, cupping his cheek in her hand once more, "I knew you would." And with that, she pulled his lips firmly to hers.

After a long moment, Joseph pulled away. "Much as I would enjoy kissing you more, my dear," he said, "perhaps we should check up on the romantic escapades of your son?"

Clarisse smiled wickedly at him. "I like the way you think, sir." She let her hand fall to her side to grasp his, and together they exited the security room to find the two young lovebirds still wrapped up in their embrace. Joseph gave one of his trademark coughs and the couple sprang apart, Charlotte blushing furiously, Pierre shifting guiltily from foot to foot, not meeting anyone's eye.

The queen stepped forward after a moment of awkwardness, releasing Joseph's hand as she did so, which went unnoticed by both Charlotte and Pierre. First, she hugged a startled Charlotte, not able to form coherent words to express her happiness. Then it was her son's turn for a wordless squeeze. Clarisse stepped back, beaming at the pair, and clapped her hands together. "Oh, I'm just so happy!" she exclaimed, grin never leaving her face.

Now Joseph came forward, shaking the Prince's hand and giving him a man-hug while muttering, "You hurt her, I kill you." Pierre nodded in understanding. Then Joseph turned to Charlotte, who pecked his cheek and hugged him tightly, saying, "Thanks, Joe."

The Head of Security returned to the Queen's side, clasping his hands behind his back in his characteristic stance.

"Now what?" Clarisse asked, still smiling.

Pierre turned to Charlotte, who shrugged. "We hadn't really discussed anything, actually," he said, evoking another blush from Charlotte and a raised eyebrow from his mother. "Now, Mother, Joseph," he acknowledged them with nods, "if you'll excuse us, Charlotte and I have some business to attend to."

Charlotte curtsied to her queen and turned to leave with Pierre, who put his arms around her waist. Clarisse and Joseph watched the other couple walk off before turning to one another.

"How much you want to bet they're going off to kiss somewhere private?" Clarisse asked, eyes twinkling.

"It's more a matter of where, not if," Joseph affirmed. "And may I suggest we do the same?"

"Oh, Joseph," Clarisse chuckled, leading him once more to the privacy of the security room.

El fin

Whoot, a new fic! Review and you get… um… a brownie. Yum :D


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